


Hercules

by lovi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Kita Shinsuke as a subbie bc i do what I want >:), Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Control, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, okay enough lolollll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovi/pseuds/lovi
Summary: Oikawa always liked the pampering, the first-class luxury of being touched by someone, being brought to orgasm by the intentional care of another’s hands.With Kita, things were a little different.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Hercules

**Author's Note:**

> this is fairly filthy lmao sowwy in advance I guess  
> still riddled w/ typical carolyn mortality-question though LMAOO  
> have nice day :) sending love your way <333

Oikawa's first observation of Kita was more akin to the sighting of an angel; stride calm and collected, inconspicuous form stood straight and average-heighted at best amidst a sea of giants. He swears he saw something eternal buried deep in his eyes, witnessed the nondescript light of a halo draped ornamental over each turn of his body.

It felt near reverent when they went out for a captain’s dinner and Kita hesitantly grabbed hold of the chair directly across from him, cautiously blew soft air over his food before taking each bite. It felt near holy when Kita asked him if he wanted to “come over sometime”, holy while Kita stood just 3 feet in front of him stirring a pot of his own soup, talking about his own work; mundane, average, but holy.

And Oikawa thinks it’s more than reverent as he’s wrapping the rope just tight enough around Kita’s wrists, kissing each vein to signal its preparation; undeniably holy to behold his own name tentatively pressed into the bed of Kita’s lips, waiting for its moment to tumble indiscreet, set free with a flick of the tongue. If holding Kita’s cock in his hand was performing a ritual, watching him orgasm was witnessing God inhabit a body. Kita sprawled out in front of him, fingers curling helplessly taut against the wooden headboard as he bucked his hips up to meet Oikawa’s fist; eyes unabashedly boring into his own, the dagger to the flesh: Oikawa swears he hears something spoken soft from within the depths of his pupils, the hint of a challenge feathering around fluttered eyelids:

_Break me._ It was _audibly intense_. He watched in awe as Kita partially crumbled, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back gently beneath eyelids drooped shut, pitched sigh escaping his lips as he spilled over the knuckles of Oikawa’s hand. Oikawa was so enraptured that his hand had mindlessly stilled around Kita’s cock, the last remnants of a thought slowing to a steady pulse as Kita rode out his orgasm, rolling his hips up shakily into the muscle of Oikawa’s palm: soft whispers of “oh god oh god oh god” til everything calmed, then silence. The same nondescript halo lay caught in the glimmer of his eyes, perceivably colder than before yet still warm to the touch, half-lidded in pleasure’s sweet afterglow. Oikawa wasn’t sure he wanted to leave the room, wasn’t sure he wanted to detangle himself from the saccharine web of Kita’s gaze.

So he didn’t. He continued to milk it out, meeting after meeting, the erosion of Kita Shinsuke becoming somewhat of a specialty of his. _This,_ Oikawa came to realize, was exactly how he had craved to see Kita from the start: all of his natural obedience melted into something lax and wholly compliant, all brought to fruition for _him_ —Oikawa Tooru. And he wanted to devour every last bite, watching hungrily as Kita finished preparing himself, briefly looking away from Oikawa to line himself up with the tip of the dildo his right hand was steadying. Oikawa watched Kita struggle with it for a brief moment until light laughter fluttered under his breath, bringing his hands up to sit on both sides of Kita's hips, helping guide him in place. He then switched the motion of his efforts downward, steadying Kita’s hips as he began to lower himself onto the length of the dildo, positioned perpendicular to the seat of the chair beneath. The silicone head pushed past his rim, a small gasp reluctantly squeezing its way out through Kita’s lips. Oikawa massaged light circles into the divots of his pelvis as Kita paused, catching his breath.

“Kita-san, I know it’s been a little while but you need to relax." Kita nodded fervently, taking deep, steady breaths and easing into the newfound sensation in his body before continuing, slowly sliding down until he bottomed out, ass flat on the seat of the chair and dildo buried inside of him as it pushed out a moan Kita wasn’t quite able to stifle. Oikawa smiled and ran his fingers up and down Kita’s sides, feather-light in approval.

“Veeery good, just like that, you’re doing great already.” Oikawa lightly squeezed his hips before moving down to his legs, fastening them to the chair with rope, too tight to move but not so tight that circulation could be cut off; the same was done with his arms against the chair’s. He could still move his hips but it took quite a bit of effort to really lift them up. Oikawa smiled softly at Kita’s feeble attempts to move, kissing both his hip bones before rising back up to look him in the eyes, right hand reaching over towards the mattress to grab a small cloth off its flat surface. He tilted Kita’s chin up slightly, watching as his web of lashes fluttered lively in anticipation of what was to come, lower half still shifting minutely in place. A small crease formed between his brows as he puffed out a small pocketful of air. Oikawa held back from gaping.

“ _Beautiful_ ,” He whispered into the shell of Kita’s ear as he reached around to fasten the black cloth over his eyes, letting the whimper that fell from Kita’s lips tumble deep into his gut as he tested for any visibility. _Should be good,_ He thought, scooting back from the chair to let the space around Kita settle into something comfortably empty, inaudibly grabbing the small remote off the mattress pad. He just watched for a little as Kita settled into his seat, finally beginning to get comfortable; and just as Kita’s lips parted, words seated on the plump of his bottom lip, Oikawa clicked the third button on the remote.

A light buzz shot through the silence, followed hot on its tail by a soft trail of whimpers spinning from the back of Kita's throat; Oikawa moving closer again, hands on Kita’s knees. Kita was squirming in the chair, no room to get away from the sudden pleasure; he was beginning to pant a bit in his efforts until Oikawa turned the vibrator’s intensity down by one level, reducing Kita’s pleas to one long, low whine from somewhere deep in the throat. Oikawa was leaning in close to Kita’s face again, relishing in the feeling of Kita’s short little breaths hot against the apple of his cheek. He faced him as though looking him in the eyes through the black fabric laid over them.

“I want you to come without me touching your cock, understand?” Kita whined high in the throat and nodded fervently, lips shakily parting to suck in more small breaths of air. Oikawa clicked his tongue and clicked the remote up one notch, watching as Kita softly flinched, groaning in the back of his throat.

“Kita, baby, you need to speak up.” Kita keened at the pet name and nodded again, lips forming messily around his words as his hips rolled fluidly over the seat of the chair. Kita gasped as his felt the head of the dildo brush up against that batch of nerves, sending him keening forward until he felt the burning dig of rope into his forearms.

“Y-yes.” He managed to squeak out between shaky gasps of air, the signal for Oikawa to turn things back down a notch. He did, and Kita almost felt somewhat thankful, able to breathe a little more steadily again, the rocking of his hips reducing to a low and gentle roll. Oikawa placed his hands on Kita’s hips, digging his thumbs with into the fat with light pressure as he guided his lower half around in a mock circle, feeling Kita sigh with the relief of being handled again.

“You’re doing perfect with this, just keep grinding into the seat of the chair for me. That’s how you’ll be getting off.” Kita’s face flushed red and his lips parted with light shame, but he nodded and a quiet, polite “okay” spun from his lips. Oikawa hummed in approval and lifted Kita’s hips up, guiding him back down onto the dildo in a way he wouldn’t have been able to do on his own. Kita buried his teeth into his lip and groaned, Oikawa’s hands trailing down his hips and settling on his thighs, fingers hungrily kneading the flesh in a way that left Kita’s head spinning. Kita sucked a heavy breath in fast as he began to circle his hips on the chair again, Oikawa sighing and reaching one hand back to up the intensity of the vibrator, sending Kita keening forward again, trying to catch his breath.

“Oikawa-san,” He gasped out as Oikawa pushed it up another notch, watched Kita squirm against the dildo, trying to find that sweet spot again. Oikawa hummed in inquisition, Kita’s forearms tugging against the ropes, thighs shaking lightly from the strain. His cock hung thick and hard against his thigh now, Oikawa exhaling a next-to-nothing laugh through his nose, running his hand languidly up Kita’s thigh, relishing in the small jolt of his hips. He stood up and strolled over to the back of the chair Kita was sat in, running his fingertips

“Awww, Kita, you’re so needy, just _look at you_ ,” Oikawa reached up to peel up Kita’s blindfold, black satin hooked over the top digit of his pointer finger. Kita did as he was told, gazed over his body; over his own cock, red and leaking onto his thigh, over Oikawa’s fingers dancing over each stretch of his skin, digging light flutters up from just beneath the skin. A small whimper bubbled up in Kita’s throat, Oikawa leaned forward to place a light kiss on his cheek before lowering the blindfold again.

“So pretty,” Kita was really whining again, having just rediscovered how to brush the toy up against his prostate. Oikawa’s fingers drifted down dangerously close to his cock, making it jump against his stomach.

“Need some help?” Oikawa’s hands drifted up towards Kita’s chest, lightly brushed over his nipples. Even a touch that light sent Kita’s back arching in a state like this, sent a moan torn out from his throat, nearly guttural as he nodded viciously.

“It’s okay to ask for help; just tell me what you need, say it clearly.” Oikawa’s fingertips continued to dance feather-light over the small buds of Kita’s chest, Kita gulped in a breath of air and was gasping soon after because Oikawa had taken Kita’s right nipple between his finger and was softly pinching it between his pointer and middle fingers, rolling it against the fleshy sides of his fingertips.

“That. T- _that_.” Oikawa hummed into Kita’s shoulder, gazing down over his body, at just how desperate he had become, chest eager pushing up into Oikawa’s touch, hips still grinding over the toy, even if they were becoming a little tired, a little jerky.

“And what is _‘that’_ , exactly?” Oikawa whispered, flicking the other bud, another whimper leaking from Kita’s lips. “Tell me, Kita, I know you’re so close.” Oikawa’s left hand switched positions and was now tweaking Kita’s nipple somewhat hard with his thumb and forefinger, ripping a garbled whine from somewhere in his chest.

“Could you…… roll both my nipples between your fingers?” Kita was cut off by a gasp as Oikawa tweaked both his nipples as once, hip movements becoming jerkier and more frantic. _“…Please?”_ That second bit came out _dangerously_ delicate and Oikawa felt it tug at his own gut, which he had been somewhat ignoring since they had begun.

He’d get his own after; that’s always how things went for them. Right now everything was about getting each word out of Kita’s mouth to sound that sweet, that enticingly human. This was what could send Oikawa spiraling into insanity, the breaking-down of Kita Shinsuke as though caught in some vat of erosive acid; each straightened spine arching, each polite affirmative melting into a desperate plea. It was the careful unraveling of it all, slowly but surely unmaking a god into a mortal. Oikawa turned the dial up to six.

Oikawa’s selfishness was growing with each gasp and desperate roll of the hips and _was that a line of drool running down the side of Kita’s face?_ It was obscene, and for that moment, Oikawa truly believed that nothing could embody lust quite as well as the broken-down, decompartmentalized Kita Shinsuke, bound hopelessly to the chair of his own study as his cock leaked hard and red against his own thigh, knee moving in a desperate attempt to gain some form of friction. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but Oikawa’s hands were moving on their own, right hand moving up to push the blindfold off Kita’s eyes while his left hand wrapped around his body, moving down to lightly caress the tip of his cock. Kita nearly _growls_ and his hips immediately buck up into Oikawa’s hand, quickly stifled by the pressure of a flat hand across his lower abdomen as well as a series of shushes strung along his neck. Kita turned, eyes immediately finding Oikawa’s own, the sweep of the lighthouse’s searchlight; they always flooded his vision, made his head fuzzy. Kita was spiraling, knees-deep into the descent of his own orgasm, eyes glistening with desire, begging for some form of release. Oikawa was in awe as always, lowering his voice to a reverent volume, softer than a whisper.

“Who do you belong to, right now?” Oikawa swept his thumb over the head of Kita’s cock as he whined, almost blubbering, hips uselessly trying to maintain some form of balance between grinding down onto the vibrator and bucking up into Oikawa’s deliberately slow hand. Kita almost didn’t want to disturb Oikawa’s efforts, didn’t want to displace his art; his lips quivered regardless.

“ _Y-you_.” Kita barely whispered, keening as Oikawa picked up the pace of his hand and removed the palm off Kita’s abdomen, moving it up til he was caressing Kita’s jaw, thumb pressed pliant into the plush buoyancy of his bottom lip.

“Good boy.” Oikawa paused as Kita whimpered around the pad of his thumb, trying so hard not to be disobedient, trying so hard not to just fuck Oikawa’s hand then and there. Oikawa once again felt too daring all at once, a Hercules fighting for his own demise through the destruction of others: Kita’s humanization.

“Kita,” He breathed out, soft and precarious, hand moving in thick, long strokes now, sloppy over the raw skin of Kita’s leaking cock. “If you come right now I’ll kiss you while you ride it out.” Kita’s eyes grew wide and spacious and he couldn’t help the motion of his own hips, rocking up furiously between the toy and Oikawa’s hand, no longer shameful. He nodded fervently and worked on focusing on his own pleasure, on the ever-increasing feeling in his own gut. All was interrupted by Oikawa’s fingers drifting down to tweak at his right nipple, while Oikawa’s teeth sank into Kita’s earlobe, tongue darting out to address the wound. Kita whimpered again, hips snapping up in their own desperate, sloppy pattern as one word fell from his lips:

“ _Tooru_.” Something snapped in Oikawa, something feral and primal, something that forced a small growl out from his lips and made everything feel just a little tighter. 

“Kita, _now_.” And it was that simple: Kita’s cock kicked and a white ribbon shot out over his stomach as his thighs quaked, as a long string of moans and swears spilled from his mouth like the blessed tears in the corners of his eyes. Oikawa was leaning forward, kissing Kita warm and sloppy until everything was melting; all the tension of Kita’s body washing away, Oikawa slowly lowering the speed of the vibrator until they had returned back to setting one, allowing Kita to relish in the warm afterglow of his own orgasm. Their lips were still attached at the hip, refusing to separate as Oikawa’s hand was now moving at a deathly slow pace, Kita’s cock laying lax and spent in the palm of his hand, its heaviness a reminder of a borderline nostalgic warmth somewhere he couldn’t quite trace: that is, until he worked up the courage to pull back, to take a full deep breath and lightly gasped at the sight of Kita’s eyes; that age-old amber, demortalized. The heavenly brought to earth. And for the first time in their little lives, Oikawa Tooru went back in for the second kiss: not to break down, but to rebuild; the paradoxical Hercules of his own light-draped path.


End file.
